


What Makes A Good Man

by Blanska



Series: The Ravenstone Chronicle [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Forgotten Realms
Genre: Backstory, Childhood, Children, Original Characters - Freeform, Player Character - Freeform, basically the first reasons and explanation why he became the evil asshole he is today :P
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanska/pseuds/Blanska





	What Makes A Good Man

"Lord Ravenstone!" Haelan heard one of the servants' voice through the wooden door of the office.

"Put me down, put me down," he whispered with urgency as he kept hitting Ander's shoulder impatiently.

The other boy did so immediately then gestured toward the big desk decorated by elaborate raven carvings, "Quickly, in here!" The two children crawled under the desk hurriedly, and did their best to take up as little space as possible then waited in dead silence, motionless, pretending that they didn't even exist.

"Lord Raventsone?" they heard the voice again, followed by loud knocking on the door then the sound of rusty hinges as it opened.

The two boys looked at each other with wide eyes, trying to stay still and breathe as quietly as possible. Haelan glanced at the pieces of the broken vase on the carpet, picturing the door, the desk and the rest of the small room in his mind, attempting to figure out whether the fragments were visible from the doorway at all. He reckoned if the servant didn't step inside the room to take a closer look and search for the source of the clattering noise, she wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

After a few moments of silence, they heard the door closing and the sound of footsteps fading away in the hallway. Haelan and Ander both let out a deep, relieved sigh.

"Why did you keep moving around like that?" the dark haired boy demanded from his friend.

"Because you're heavy," Ander answered.

"I'm smaller than you, I had to be the one on top," Haelan argued, still trying to keep his voice down.

"But I got tired, because you took so long."

"That stupid sword is really high up! Why would they even put it up there, where no one can reach it? It's probably not even real."

"Stupid sword."

"Yeah."

For a few second they quietly blamed the stupid sword then Ander turned to stare at the shards of the fancy vase with utter horror on his face, "My father's going to murder me when learns about this."

"Then we have to make sure he never does," Haelan replied with a confident tone then sent his friend on a quest to sneak into the servant's quarters and retrieve a blanket while he carefully collected all evidence of the accident.

"Should we bury it in the garden?" Ander asked as they wrapped the fragments tightly in an old cloth he had found.

"No," Haelan said with a grimace on his face, like this notion were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "What are we going to say when someone spots us digging? And there would be dirt all over us, don't be stupid."

"But we have to hide it somewhere, where no one would ever look!"

"I have a better idea. When your father comes back, he's going to notice that something is missing, yes? And he'll want to know what happened to it. So, we're going to hide it under one of the servants' beds. This way, there will be no mystery and he'll have someone else to blame."

"But the servant will tell him that she didn't break it, that someone's trying to set her up," Ander complained.

"And? You father will always believe _you_ over some random maid. Come on, we have to hurry!"

The two of them carefully crept out of the room, making sure no one noticed them sneaking through the old hallways of the Ravenstone mansion. As they reached the servants' quarters, they stopped and listened to the maids gossiping and arguing inside, but Haelan decided that they had no time to wait around, for it was almost time for their sparring lesson. So, he told Ander to hide, while he distracted the servants with a clever little lie. He managed to convince them that they were needed in the kitchen, and after they all left the room, he signaled to his friend then quickly placed the remnants of the once beautiful vase under one of the beds. After this was done, the boys headed to the courtyard. On their way Haelan assured Ander that all he had to do was pretend like he didn't know anything about this incident, and everything would be fine.

Their teacher was already waiting for them near the fountain, and as usual he didn't waste any time; he tossed the wooden swords to the young boys and started the lesson immediately. Although Ander was a bit older, thus a little taller than Haelan, their fighting skills were not on the same level at all. Lord Ravenstone started his younger son's training more than a year ago, and the only reason Haelan could be a part of these lessons was probably the fact that they were about the same age, so he was a suitable sparring partner; but as it turned out he was also a more talented fighter than Ander. He was the first to master the basics, to learn new moves, to get the footwork right, and he enjoyed the training thoroughly, so he didn't mind that he had to keep practicing things he was already good at and wait for his friend to catch up.

The only time he was bothered by Ander's lack of talent was when the trainer decided to focus only on his struggling student and Haelan was left to practice on his own, which was a lot more boring than sparring with someone else. Once again this was the case, and as he repeated the moves alone only a few meters away from his friend and their teacher, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to take a better look and saw his big sister exiting the garden then making her way toward the mansion's main door.

"Hey, Landrea!" he called out to her then as she stopped to glance at him, he assumed a standard dueling stance. "Think you can beat me?"

"No," she replied in her rigid voice without moving even a step closer, "I know it."

"Well, I don't believe you," Haelan tried to tease her into fighting. "So, you'll have to prove it or everyone will think you're afraid of an eight year old."

"I've no time to-" she started her response, but the trainer interrupted.

"That's not a bad idea at all. Come over here! Let's see how your brother deals with a more challenging opponent," he said then he handed Ander's sword to the girl.

Landrea had similar dark brown hair as Haelan, usually kept in a long, neat braid, but her eyes were green instead of light brown. She was three years older than her brother, a lot taller and stronger, and of course years ahead in martial training. She took the wooden sword, gave a short nod to the trainer then took up the dueling position as well. Her stance, her grip on the hilt, the way she held the practice sword, it was all perfect, all how it was supposed to be; she was a like a picture from a page of a book that came to life. Haelan knew he had almost no chance of defeating her, unless he gained the advantage somehow, but the bigger the challenge, the greater the glory, so he never let these things keep him from trying. And Landrea was in front of him, waiting motionless like a statue of a fighter. She knew she didn't have to put much effort in this duel; she was more skilled than her little brother and she had longer arms, so she could easily deflect any of his attacks and finish the fight with a quick riposte whenever she wanted to.

So Haelan began to slowly circle around her, forcing her to keep turning toward him, waiting for an opening. Suddenly he lunged forward, giving a quick thrust toward her which she had to parry, hoping that it might leave him with an opportunity. When that opportunity didn't present itself, the little boy stepped back and continued circling his opponent, occasionally changing direction or attempting to break her perfect stance with an attack. After a few tries, he decided he would go for it, put all his energy in a single move and either fail horribly or surprise her enough to win the duel. He launched another attack, forcing her to parry the blow, but instead of following up with a cut, he just dash toward her, attempting to close the distance between them. He could see the surprise on Landrea's face, for this was nothing like the standard moves the trainer had taught her, but she was quick to react and managed to slide her sword back, touching it to Haelan's neck before he could reach her with his weapon.

"Good tactic!" the trainer told them. "Trying to move the fight closer, where she's less comfortable. Clever idea."

"Indeed," Landrea said as she turned to the teacher, "but Mother's requested to see me and I'd rather not keep her waiting any longer. May I be excused?"

"You may," he replied, so she returned the wooden sword then gave a short nod once again and left the courtyard with hurried steps.

Haelan carried on practicing on his own then sparring with Ander, but he kept thinking about the duel with his sister. He loved the challenge of trying to defeat her, and he knew he just had to train diligently and get stronger, so one day he could finally beat her.

After their fighting lesson was done, the two young boys had to spend a fascinating two hours with Master Blackspear, an older gentleman, who taught them history, literature, also elven language and writing. The teaching style of the old master was among the most boring things Haelan had ever experienced so far; he tended to talk very slowly, stray from the original point of what he was saying, or just keep telling them the exact same sentence phrased in different ways. Haelan's method to avoid simply dosing off while the teacher was talking was to fill his notes with as many doodles as humanly possible. Which led to Master Blackspear getting annoyed at him and asking him random questions to test how much the boy missed of his lectures, but Haelan could answer them every single time. He knew these lessons were important, so he memorized everything, but that didn't change the fact that the tutor was extremely dull.

This day, after Master Blackspear's class was finally over, the boys decided to play in the garden to recover from these horrible two hours, but as Haelan was walking back to his room to get his coat, he saw two figures standing in the hallway, one of them a maid, the other his mother. He quickly hid behind the corner then tried to peak out, careful not to draw attention to his presence. His mother seemed to be very upset about something and the maid was comforting her with soft words, which Haelan couldn't quite make out. He quietly made his back toward the main hall then started running as fast as he could. He knew the old master couldn't have been far away, his walking was almost as slow as his speech. But as he turned on one of the corners at full speed, he suddenly found himself right in front of his sister, almost slamming into her. He slid past her as he hastily tried to stop mid-dash then span around to face her.

"You!" he yelled at her, breathing heavily from running. "What did you do?!"

"What do you mean?" she almost demanded rather than asked for explanation.

"You were going to talk to Mother," he accused her, "you made her sad, you must have!"

"You're out of your mind. Why would I ever do such a thing?" then she paused for a moment. "You don't know what day it is, do you?"

The few seconds of silence that followed gave her the answer.

"It is the day that father died," she stated. "You might have been too young to remember him, but Mother still mourns him. You should remember that."

"Well, maybe she shouldn't mourn a looser," he mumbled as he turned to walk away, but evidently Landrea heard his words pretty clearly.

"Are you serious?" she stepped closer to stop him from leaving. "If you're worried about making her sad then you should try not saying horrible things like that."

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes, but couldn't walk away just yet, because his sister pulled him back.

"Promise me, you're not going to say anything like that in front of Mother," she told him as she looked deep into his eyes, trying to show just how seriously she meant those words.

"I'm not stupid," Haelan said with a mocking grimace on his face then pulled his arm from his sister's hand and started jogging toward the main entrance.

As he exited the mansion, the jog turn into a sprint once again. He passed a couple of guards who were deep in conversation then at the gates, he reached Master Blackspear, who turned around clumsily in his surprise. Haelan asked him for the last test they had written, telling him it was very important, so the teacher slowly searched his bag then finally handed the papers to the boy and told him not to lose them. The young student didn't even wait for his tutor to finish the sentence, he began racing back to the building then he ran through the hallways, never even stopping before he reached his mother's chamber.

"Right away, Mistress Westra." Haelan heard the voice of the maid right before the door opened. The servant gave a small smile to the boy as she left the room. Haelan took a moment to even out his breathing and straighten the papers in his hands then he knocked on the door and pushed it open.

As he stepped into the room, his mother's face lit up, a familiar smile appeared on her lips, a smile with which she usually told Haelan that everything was alright.

"What is it, my son?" she asked him, shifting a bit on her bed to turn toward him.

"I wanted to show you my history test," he told her, holding the papers in front of him, so she could take them.

"Let me see," she reached out then started to examine the text. "What did Master Blackspear say about this?"

"He said that everything was correct and my answers were precise and accurate..." he said as he instinctively stepped closer and leaned against his mother's leg.

"That's very good," she told him as she pulled him closer. "You're such a clever boy. You keep that up and you'll be the smartest man in all of Luskan."

"And today I was sparring with Landrea and I almost beat her," he began his tale in an enthusiastic voice, making everything seem more exciting than it actually was. "I knocked her sword aside and rushed toward her!"

"My brave, brave Haelan," she put the papers on the bed beside her then cradled her son's face with both of her hands. "You're going to be such a great warrior. You're gonna make me so proud."  
Then she hugged him, held him as close to her chest as she was able to, "My beautiful boy," she said then let him go and handed the test back to him. "Now go and put these back where they belong, will you?"

"Yes, Mother," Haelan nodded with a wide smile on his face then ran off to find wherever that place might be, now that the tutor had left the mansion.


End file.
